Never be Complancent
by IdleThoughtsofanIdleSoul
Summary: The organization known as the Gray Wardens have been rather inactive for the past 400 years, not counting the 5th Blight of course. While most warden-commanders are content to recruit, train, repeat one commander wants to fight the Horde. One commander has been forced to have their career as a warden been constant action. That's not about to change.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_BANG!_

The book slams the on the table. The noise completely silences the room, "Absolutely not! I will not allow such blatant and disgusting use of magic to find the answers we need!" The gall he has to suggest such an ugly and vicious crime just for the benefit of those who _might_ live through it makes my blood boil. "I will not allow you or any other idiot to try something that uses the masses like they were cattle! Even if I die, I will come back from the Void itself to kick your sorry crustacean ass face so hard that any remaining relatives you might have will feel it! Do I make myself clear?" Magic gathers around the Commanders' hands as he screams protests at the Architect.

If the prick feels any emotion, the mask covers it. Magic gathers around his hands as he raises himself to his full height. He tries again to voice his idea, "I still think-"

"I don't give a Blighted fuck what you think! I said do I make myself clear?" the Commander interjects. They both know they won't come to blows; both are to powerful and need each other to much to allow that. For a quick second though the Architect flinches. This argument is won by the Commander.

"Yes," He relents. With that, the Hero of Ferelden turns abruptly and storms out of the room, far too angry to continue to strategize. Magic flows to easy here and he ends up slamming the door with it as he leaves.

Every single faux warden and darkspawn damn near trip over their own two feet as he stalks down the halls. They have all heard horror stories of people who have pushed him well over the edge of anger. However, right now, he's too enraged at the proposals floated today. '_The gall of these Blighted bastards. The smartest fuckers in the Blighted Deep and they can't come up with one decent idea? It's absolutely disgusting that I have to deal with this shit. Months have passed since we have started this little conference to find a way to more appropriately fight the Blight and nothing has come of it,_' his seething thoughts sour his mood as he storms towards the massive chasm that is the center point of this impromptu city.

Slipping into more anger, more desperation, more depression, and more fear the song plays again in his head. Just a little louder this time, as if it knows he's reaching his wits end. _'I'm going insane more and more.'_ Magic fills his body. It's so easy. Too easy.

_'I can't take the damn song!' _

All emotions turn to pure fury. Fire gathers between his hands growing hotter and brighter. With all his might, he chunks it into the black depth before him. It reaches a breaking point and explodes into what feels like a small sun. The light blinds everything in the chasm for a while, the heat warms everything it can touch to a more comfortable level, and the sound it makes is so deafening that it seems as if the entire Deep has fallen silent after the explosion. For a second he can imagine hes's on the surface again. The moment passes.

His breathing is labored, but he no longer hears the song and can finally relax. He sits at the edge of the cliff overlooking the massive cavern that once held an archdemon. There is poetic justice here. Some of the smartest people alive all gathered here united in the common goal of ending the threat of the Blights.

The clicking of claws against stone and his pointed ear is soon tickled by the wet snout of the ever loyal dog, Barkspawn. Footsteps are not far behind either. "Well Commander, I can now see how you so easily commanded the choices of the Landsmeet," Avernus's snide voice coming from behind as he stops just at the edge of the cliff, "That display of magic has reminded the Spawn who they are dealing with too. You are far from the young elf that dealt with the demons of Soldier's Peak."

"Bite me, Old Blood. I do not have the emotional capacity to deal with your smug ass right now." The cranky blood mage was brought to assist with the Architects' research and give a different point of view. The two took to each other like teenage lovers; at least that's how the saying goes though it still makes no sense to the young commander. The lack of a moral compass for either of them forces someone to watch over them constantly to make sure they have some sort of ethical research happening. The train of thoughts leads back to the reason the Commander is so angry.

The Architects' proposal.

"If I may be so bold Commander, he has a point. Making a second attempt at his breaking into of the Fade will most likely lead us to answers we don't even know the questions too."

"No it won't. It'll be the death of even more innocents with probably some other horror spilling out to wreak even more havoc upon all of Thedas. His proposal is even more insane than everyone else's is. I mean seriously," the Commander stands up and starts pacing, Barkspawn never far from his heels, "Using a combination of a Darkspawn and Gray Warden army to sweep through the deep and attempt to turn every Darkspawn to our side? Need I remind everyone how that idea went last time? Amaranthine still isn't the same! Or how about the idiotic idea of repeating the experiment that caused the fifth Blight? I don't think there is going to be another giant tower for me to kill another dragon on," sarcasm thick as syrup as he stops and stares at him, "The song is affecting everyone here. It isn't possible. It isn't right. We need an answer, and we need one now."

"So you are proposing that we find an answer to the Calling?"

"That's the best idea yet," comes the reply after a moment of hesitation.

"Oh do tell how we will accomplish that," he replies in the most patronizing tone he can muster.

"Well for starters, I need to know how the research the two of you have conducted has gone."

His eyes light up with more interest in this conversation. The self-centered mage is always ready to brag about what he has been recently doing anyway, "Well, though our work has been throttled back we have made strides in our understanding of the taint in our blood. To buttress your point, we have ways to extend the life of Gray Wardens but nothing to put off the Calling indefinitely. If you would assist us, I believe your perspective could give us a massive boost in our understanding. Besides the two of us, you sir are the next leading expert on all things Blighted."

"You know my best work isn't done while trapped in a lab, Old Blood."

"I never said anything about a lab, Commander."

That makes the hero pause and have a stare down with Barkspawn. Those eyes of his are twinkling with that mabari intelligence. He's followed the conversation as well as he can. That wagging tail is enough proof of that. One happy bark from him and he's in for the long run on this idea, "I'll need a scribe. One that can keep up with how fast I'll be talking."

"You are talking to him."

"Can you keep up with me old man?" the mood starting to improve.

"Only if we go up to the surface first so that we can get enough books to hold your ranting," he returns with a smirk.

"We'll have to be quick about it."

"Understood Commander."

They make their way back to the temporary quarters to get ready for the journey ahead. Ideas already flying through the commander's head. Ever since the Blight, he always thought best in the middle of fights or stressful events. The damn song won't let him do that properly so fighting might be the best answer. It looks like the three of them were going to throw themselves into the worst parts of the Deep Roads just to see what insane ideas might come up with in the heat of the moment. As a far more powerful mage than the one that beat an ancient paragon and claimed his anvil, than the one that saved the Circle, than the one that freed werewolves, than the one who crowned a queen, than the one who survived killing an archdemon and talking darkspawn after that this is going to be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After some quick packing, and some guarantees from everyone else that no one is going to do anything dumb while any sort of authority is gone and that everyone will take a break to come up with better ideas, Avernus, Barkspawn, and the Commander head for the surface. He has to remind himself that magic is something that he's glad he doesn't have to live without. A trip that would've taken a normal group several weeks to see Soldier's Peak, let alone the sun, took them only a week and a half. They are almost in a more travel heavy area of roads so they slow down to a reasonable speed. It might take them the rest of the day to reach the mountain fortress but it's better than running head first into a farmer's wagon. Literally.

As they approach the gates, they're hailed by the poor soul who has guard duty at this time of night. _'The best part about being the commander is I never have to do this,'_ the Commander thinks. Upon seeing her commanding officer, she quickly lets them in. With a swift acknowledgement, that nothing is getting done tonight and they go their separate ways. Praying for blissful sleep but knowing that probably won't happen is the last full conscious thought the warden has. Barkspawn knows it'll be a hard night and climbs right into the bed and cuddles real close. Wrapping arms around as an automatic response to the hound's presence is the closest thing to comfort the pair will receive.

Only waking up 3 times because of nightmares and kicking Barkspawn off once by accident is considered a good night's sleep. Is it the bed helping? Maybe. Sunrise is starting so he might as well get up and get some work done while he's at the fort. Walking to his office, he passes by several newer wardens who are shocked to see me back so soon and snap to a salute. Half-hearted returns are their only response as he continues on his way.

The door is open. He expected as much after leaving Nate in charge and he's such a stickler for this kind of stuff. Jokingly knocking on the door is how he greats his second in command, "Mornin Acting-Commander. How goes your job?" When he looks up, he leaps to his feet.

"Commander," He states in alarm, "I wasn't aware you arrived."

"That's fair," he says as he takes one of the guest seats, "I got in late last night and was too tired to do much of anything else."

"Is there any specific reason for your visit sir? I thought you'd be down in the Deep until a decision was made. It's not like I don't think that a decision could've been reached yet, but even then I was expecting a messenger before you'd even return."

"No the meeting, conference, whatever you want to call it, has produced less than stellar results so far. We have called for a break to let cooler heads prevail and more research to be done. I have obviously become rather antsy and since I have yet to apply my own vision of a step forward I am trying to get some inspiration."

"You're packing for a serious fighting trip into the Deep Roads?" he deduces quickly.

"Well… yes," I admit, "The Old Blood has volunteered to be the scribe for the trip and is collecting what he needs now. I plan to swing by everywhere else to get the necessary supplies."

"Ah that makes sense. Will you need more soldiers for the venture?"

A child could hear the hesitation with which he asks that question, "I take it recruitment hasn't gotten any better than?"

"No sir. The recruits we get are few and far between. We are still well under 500 soldiers. The war between mages and templars helped with those who want a safe haven from the fighting and while being able to say that you are technically our commander helps, the lack of your presence doesn't inspire much recruitment. Though conversely we are well funded and all non-warden staff is at an appropriate level."

"Well then," he stands up, "that's at least one problem we can mark off our list. Do your best to make sure we are ready for a sudden burst in recruitment if it happens. I need to take the rest of today to get ready. We will take our leave sometime tomorrow at the latest."

"Before you go Commander, a letter arrived for you from the Inquisition."

"What is the Inquisition?"

"A group founded under the Chantry's banner to stop the war between mages and templars. They want your help with the issue as there might be bigger forces at play."

"Of course they do. I seem to have bigger fish to fry at this point," he makes the grand sweeping gesture behind him.

"They say that they will gladly help with any issues we might have," he snorts back at Nate's idea of getting religious help for this, "Also the letter is from your sister."

Eyes are wide with interest and a little bit of fear; he takes the letter and reads it. Thoughts start moving again, _'Hmm, this is a weird time to have a big problem with all this. That massive explosion does pose the idea of a bigger threat. No this weird Calling song bullshit feeling has to be dealt with first.'_

"No I won't be able to help them. I'll send them a letter with my regrets that I am too busy. Send them some useful item with my response though. Once I fix the problem that is taking all of my attention I can personally lend assistance. If anything with Darkspawn happens offer immediate assistance," After writing a hasty response that he hopes will lend credence to the idea of being to busy he sets off to get the rest of the work done.

"Of course. I will be here if you need me, Commander," he says returning to his work.

His thoughts are rolling with hatred, _'Fuck. The. Rain. Traveling in this will be so much harder.' _His boot gets stuck in mud again and at the speed they are going, he falls face first into the mud. He screams bloody murder into the impromptu mud pie. He is reminded of every time he had to do something in the rain and how something always goes wrong. As a child? A limb breaking and falling from a tree. As a teenager? Ostagar. He gets back up and thinks about just freezing all the water and just dealing with snow or hail at worst. An idea suddenly strikes him, and his faces breaks into a muddy grin.

With this first attempt is brilliant, insane, and wickedly fun. He rushes past Avernus and Barkspawn by creating a perfectly slick patch of ice to slide on and using fire magic to accelerate forward. With this first bit of innovation, this trip has the possibility of being a massive success.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_A letter from the Commander of the Gray in Ferelden to Divine Victoria_

_To her most holy,_

_ I must congratulate you on your ascension to the Sun-Burst Throne. I apologize for the Wardens of Ferelden being unable to assist your Inquisition during the entire struggle with the Breach and all the problems that came with it. However, I must taint this letter to you with the most depressing news. It seems that the Hero of Ferelden and former Warden-Commander has perished. He has apparently died while taking an army of Darkspawn with him though as we all knew he would. Even then, we believe that it wasn't the Darkspawn themselves that brought him down but nature itself had to intervene. A collapse of significant magnitude in the Deep Roads trapped him too far for us to get to him. Enclosed in this letter to you is a letter for your spymaster Leliana Nightingale as I am told she works for you now. Please see to it that she receives it._

_ The griffons will fly again,_

_ Nathaniel Howe Commander of the Gray in Ferelden_

_The enclosed letter to Leliana and Alistair_

_Dear Ms. Nightingale and Commander Alistair,_

_I understand you would normally hate to receive any sort of correspondence from me but I must agree with Nathaniel that since I was the last person to see the Commander alive I should provide you with the story of what happened._

_He was desparate for an idea. You know how much combat that does involve. The two of us and his hound packed and we left for the Deep Roads. Now that we have received word from the Orlesian Wardens that Corypheus was the cause of what we were trying to solve, I wish we could turn back time and inform him that you both shared similar goals._

_We searched for a massive horde that could truly free his mind and allow thoughts to come together. And we found it. Eventually. We decided to rest before we started the fight just in case. That was only the beginning of our problems._

_He got antsy again. Couldn't sit still. He left the hound with me and went to scout out everything. After a few hours when he didn't return I got concerned but I could still sense him. I could still feel the Veil having not been touched with any kind of magic to pass through it. He was not in danger._

_That's when the horde moved. Suddenly and without warning. They converged on his location. I could sense the thirst for his blood through the Taint. Whatever he was doing, he got their attention. We moved to assist. Tried to thin the heard. Regroup and retreat._

_That's when a new feeling came over me. One of utter terror. I felt it through my senses and by how he acted Barkspawn did too. That's when another feeling overcame us. This was physical though and snapped us out of terror. An earthquake. One of magical origin. And it was powerful. Your brother quite literally brought down the entire section of the Deep Roads we were in. I was lucky to grab the hound and make it out alive. After heading back the only thing we could sense was the blood of the fallen. Crushed under rocks. Using my blood magic I was able to push my senses farther than most wardens. There was no living thing but the hound and I for miles. Blighted or not. The Hero of Ferelden died by his own cave in to make sure the horde we found wouldn't ever trouble another soul._

_I am sorry I couldn't save him. It is my greatest regret. _

_Avernus_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It has been some time. Much has happened to Thedas since the death of the Hero of Ferelden. Even after his quelling of the Darkspawn civil war his presence was rarely ever felt in the world. Some believed he died a few years after the civil war he quelled. They believe that the announcement was just the finding of his body after all this time. The Divine took that rumor and ran with it wanting the feeling of honoring him the way his clan would have done. She called together the rulers of nations, Commanders of those nations, and the general population to honor his sacrifice. Denerim was bursting at the seems with all the traffic. Divine Justinia stood above everyone delivering a proper eulogy for the dead hero. It wasn't one filled with calls to the Maker or words from Andraste that she spoke; she had enough respect for him that they weren't even mentioned. Instead, she preached of the Evanuris. She preached for a symbol of hope that came from an unlikely place. She preached that when everything went to shit that one overzealous elf kicked down door, threw magic that'd frighten even demons, and helped anyone and everyone that came across his path. She preached of how everyone could look to him as a Paragon to live up to. She preached while a casket, empty unknown to everyone but a very few, was lowered into the ground in the middle of the market district. She continued even after dirt started filling over the casket. She only stopped after a sapling, requested by a very influential red head, was placed securely in place over the empty casket.

Mourning in Denerim lasted for some time. A sad cloud held over everyone's head. Enough time passed that a very _very_ motley crew gathered at the Pearl. The group that gathered was everyone who traveled with and worked closely with the dead commander. They laughed drank and shared stories of the insanity that the elf brought to their lives.

"…and then once he's where he wants to be, he goes 'Hey Shitlips! Look at me.' The ogre turns to the Commander, that's when his face breaks into the biggest shit-eating grin, and all he says is 'Bitch.' And launches the ballista bolt right between the monsters' eyes!" Ogrhen's story gets the entire room laughing and almost falling on their asses.

"Isn't that the time when the Commander also had the brilliant idea to sneak by the massive den of corrupted cave spiders by slathering us with the guts of the spawn?" Velanna asks barely getting it out past her giggle fits.

"The only good part about that entire stint was we couldn't smell Ogrhen anymore," Anders jokingly answered, which got the other non-wardens present to redouble in their drunken laughter. The laughter eventually died down and everyone got into a collective somber mood. "His plans were always the dumbest shit anyone ever came up with."

"Yet somehow they always worked out," a somber Lilianna said, "He was so young during the 5th Blight. He never should've been involved."

"He was going to die if Duncan didn't offer him a place in the Wardens," Alistair replied trying to soothe the bard's angst.

"Yet that somehow makes a teenager the right person to fight the darkspawn?" she bit back angrily.

"That's not what I meant-"

**"He was 15 when he drove the sword through that monster's head. A child stopped the Blight where no adults could. We stood back and let him make life changing decisions for entire countries because all of us were so insurmountable useless that all we could do is offer advice to him." **Lilianna was now enraged with the memory of the little brother she lost far too early. **"He would be 25 today. He didn't deserve t**o **di**e **t**his early. We lost Little Sapling too soon," she was openly weeping now. Everyone was well past somber now into complete self-hatred.

The only sound that went through the brothel was the crackling of the fire and sounds of a crying bard. The idea of watching a child run around leading a well-armed group of people seemed ridiculous to anyone who never watched him lead. The other patron's at the bar were also quiet; partly out of respect for the person this group was celebrating and cause, it was extremely awkward. Even the workers were losing through groove.

Then the sound of someone chugging a large amount of liquor was heard. A mug slammed on the table in front of the drunk as he belched and stood. Ogrhen used the chair he was given to stand on and leap to the top of the table, "Look at us. Sitting at a bar gettin' wasted and bein' useless shits. The Commander would have half our heads if he saw us now," his words got the whole establishment to look at him but he paid them no mind, "The magical bastard did everythin' in his power to help everyone here and some who ain't. We should be keepin' that idea alive. We should be doin' the thing he would. **Our fuckin' jobs.** He did his every damn day. I don't know what the fuck y'all plan on doin', but I plan to take my axe and kick every Warden in Soldier's Peak right in the ass and get them to out class every darkspawn they ever come across and then some," With that he left. A new mood overcame everyone's shock and surprise when Ogrhen slammed the brothel door. Determination. Soul after soul threw back what they had left of drinks. Coins were tossed on the table to pay for the drinks, and for the scene, and out the door they went mubbling plans on what their next steps in this or that should be.

The speech from Ogrhen spread like wildfire through the city. From the poor to the rich everyone had heard a version of it after only 2 days, and while the speech wasn't always the same words, it was the same message. In a month, half of Ferelden knew the story. Before the season was over it was the most important thing anyone in Ferelden had heard. The slurred words of a drunk dwarf kicked the country in its proverbial ass. The somber mood of the loss of a hero was quelled. Appreciation of the Wardens shot through the roof. This was displayed with additional monetary donations from nobles, better trade within every Warden compound, and the recruitment of good soldiers from all walks of life.

The dead might not speak, but if they affected the living hard enough, then the living will speak for them.

* * *

Several miles off the beaten path near Weisshaupt, the headquarters of the Grey Wardens, a site that hadn't been seen in at least a year appeared. While no one saw it open, the fade rift still opened. No demons came through it though. It was only open long enough for the screams of a someone in full plate armor to be heard as they fell from it and crashed head first into the dunes of the Anderfels.

Turning over only gave the image of the sky knitting itself back together perfectly, "Okay. What the fuck just happened?" The question was only answered by the quiet wind that swept up the sand here and there, "Where am I? Some kind of desert obviously. Okay, not really helpful, but-" an abrupt stop as a 6th sense kicked in. There was something. No. Someone. Lots of someones. They felt familiar. The last thought hit him as he came to the sudden realization that they don't even know who they are, "Well, might as well go in that direction and see if someone can give me some kind of information."

The mysterious armored soldier walked towards the fortress never really questioning why the armor had a griffon on it, the color scheme of blue and silver in the fabric, or the feathery wings of the helmet.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

It took quite some time for the soldier to reach Weisshaupt. The heat of the desert not letting up the armor became rather hot but provided the perfect physical barrier from the sun as it covered everything save the eyes. With every step that was taken the feeling grew stronger. The fortress came into view and with it roads. The soldier moved away from the forced path that was taken to the much more well-worn roads towards the entrance. The soldier was stained with sand and dirt and even if there was true fight faced in the journey the battle of the elements seems to have taken a toll on the weary soldier.

"Ho there brother," shouted one of the guards, "What happened to you?"

"Sand. Lots of sand. It isn't fun and I have no more supplies."

"Well lucky for you then that its almost dinner. Best wash up. If the head servant sees you eating in such a state you'll be cleaning the stables."

"Thanks for the advice. I'll just have to follow my nose."

"Have a nice day."

"You too," with that the soldier continued to look for information in a more passive manner. Looking around one could see other soldiers in similar armor but they all matched unlike the dusty soldier. What was the most confusing was this innate 6th sense. It seemed to only affect the people who looked ready for combat. No servants felt that way, which was even more confusing. That meant that despite being dusty the soldier was no doubt battle hardened and able to fight, and while the mind remembers little, the body rarely gets amnesia. The splash of water was a new sound that drew attention. The passive watching of other soldiers filling buckets at a well then procedding to clean equipment or themselves was what drew the soldier to the well.

As the soldier approached the well a woman was finished cleaning the dust from her armor, "Take it you walking dust ball," she said as she passed the bucket to the soldier, "you seem in much more need for it then me." The other soldiers spared a glance at the interaction and chuckled while the woman stayed to talk to the soldier, "Never seen someone as tall as you around here before. Where did you come from? More importantly, the fuck happened?"

As the well filled the bucket the soldier sighed, "I came from the southwestern area. As to your second question, a sand dune thought I looked rather attractive and pulled me in for a kiss on the lips. I had to walk all the way here in some of the shittiest conditions." As to add to the point, the soldier lifted the full bucket of water and promptly dumped it above the tip of the helm. The others scrambled away from the soldier as to not be splashed and laughed at the antics.

The woman chuckled and took note of how after only one bucket the soldier looked like the armor was spit shined and the bits of cloth that were visible came straight off the loom, "Well that does sound like quite the story. That kiss tell you anything important?"

"Yeah, I've been told that I need to stop kissing sand and start kissing books," the lie might have been a joke but the soldier was still lost on everything and needed information. The best way to do that without blowing any kind of cover would be to read about it.

"You look significantly less like shit, so I'd say get some food and then hit the library. Lucky for you it's on the west side of the fort so you can stare at your new lover," and with the uproar that joke caused the soldier slipped into the fort following the scent towards the dining room.

Trying to eat with a helmet that covered your entire face was tough though. Attempting to take of the helmet or any part of the armor proved fruitless though. This caused a small panic in the soldier. How does someone eat around a full-face helmet? How does one stay cool in this hellhole of a desert? How do you take a shit? The soldier tugged at the faceplate desperately trying to pry it off just to eat. When there was a little give. The soldier froze in the panicked state. The mind turned from panic to analytic. Slowly, carefully the soldier felt for that clicking again. There! The soldier continued to play with it until a small push moved a section of the faceplate off. It was strange to hold a part of the faceplate in a full gauntlet. The soldier tried to drop it. When you want out of something you really don't want to keep it on you. Except, the piece didn't bend to the will of gravity. The soldier could pass it from hand to hand, reattach it, and take it off at will but it always stayed attached to another part of the armor.

'_Strange. Why would metal only want to stick to itself? Magnets? Wait what's a magnet?' _the soldier's mind was racing with explanations that couldn't come to mind. Suddenly the analysis came to a halt as pain racked the brain, _'Magnets are specific metals that can be charged and are attracted to each other. Why do I remember that now? Is my lack of memories specific? Maybe I remember what I knew but not aspects of myself. Fuck, I hope not. Shit sounds dumb as fuck. Maybe specific things cause me to remember. That would explain the headache and the fact that I know what a magnet is. That means the library is going to suck but be very important for me to go to,' _the soldier was able to "pocket" the mouth guard and finally get something to eat.

The soldier did everything possible to avoid the others during the meal. Avoid servants as much as possible. Avoid other soldiers with that 6th sense. Despite towering over the general population, the soldier seemed to be able to be almost invisible. Able to get the large quantities of food and drink without anyone really noticing. _'Ha! I might not know everything I know but my body definitely does,' _the thought was comforting through the meal.

After the final helping, the stealth had to end, as the soldier had to ask exact directions to the library. Arriving at the library the soldier found the history section. Picking out books basically at random was the only way to do it. Setting all the books on the first available table the soldier began to read.

The soldier began to read.

And read.

And.

Remember.

Remember so much.

The knowledge in the fortress was at the fingertips here in a library the soldier read through the night and early into the morning until the stack was gone. The soldier could, somehow, point out the inaccuracies in the historical texts. How the soldier learned all of that but yet had still failed to learn anything about themself was annoying. Still knowledge for the sake of knowledge was a good enough feat. For now. As the sun finally caught in the eye of the soldier the smell of food was caught by the nose, and with a rumbling of the stomach, the soldier marched once again to hide in the shadows of the mess hall. Finally, the soldier knew the name of the soldier and what the 6th sense was. The soldier wasn't a normal soldier. The soldier was a Grey Warden. The fortress was the headquarters of the order. So why does it feel important to hide? The warden wasn't sure but if the extra sense told the positions of wardens than surely this feeling was something to listen to as well.

The warden kept this schedule up for a full month reading and hiding in random parts of the library for short naps here and there, eating in shadows and going unnoticed most of the time even being as tall as a qunari didn't hinder the warden from the set goal. Learn.

One day the warden was near the desk that the servants used to help any warden or scholar that was researching anything, when the sound of an interesting conversation reached curious ears.

"Hey there, here's the slip of paper from the First Warden saying we can go into the restricted section," came the voice of one of two wardens.

"Everything checks out. If you'll follow me," came the voice of the servant in charge.

The warden didn't know of a restricted section and so the decision to follow was an easy one. The warden watched from on top of a bookshelf as the servant entered in a code into a lock before clicking it off while the warden's watched for anyone being weird and sneaky. The process repeated in reverse for the wardens and the rather cleverly hidden door was opened. All 3 disappeared into the restricted section and the door shut. _'Strange how have I not noticed that before? I was occupied with just learning but this poses even a wider opportunity for new knowledge. I'll wait until the middle of the night to make my move. I still have another stack to get through._' With a plan in place, the warden went back to the little hidey-hole that was made up as to draw the least attention.

Another full month passed as the warden slipped in and out of the restricted section pulling a book here and there until the information from the main section was exhausted. After that month, the warden stayed almost all day in the restricted section making new hidey-holes and reading very restricted information to the average Grey Warden.

The warden continued to gather as much information from the restricted section as possible, until one day a whispered conversation was heard in the restricted section between two wardens.

"Valya, I know you think this might be hope but if you go about it recklessly people will die. Things can go wrong."

"Oh calm down Reimas. Think about it this could work. We could bring about a new age for Grey Wardens everywhere."

"But we still need a guide, and there are only a handful of wardens who are even familiar with the area. Then tacking on the idea of trustworthiness is suspect to anyone. You know anyone could be a sort of spy for the First Warden. Do you really think we can get away with this?"

"Well the first step is to see if we can actually find it. The next step will be what we do next."

"Fine. Fine. So long as we keep this under wraps for now and as close to our chests as possible. Deal?"

"Deal," the warden watched as the two sealed the deal with a handshake.

'_Interesting. Something seems to be happening and it has to be super-secret for some reason. I'm going to follow and see what comes of it,'_ with that thought, the warden switches tactics and stops raiding the library and starts following the wardens. The warden followed as they recruited two other wardens and set off for a seemingly dangerous area if one of the other's reaction was to be believed. That didn't stop them or the warden from following though.

As they reached, a strange place that seemed to only be a series of tunnels filled with corpses of the undead. The warden followed behind the group of 4 at a safe distance but when a fierce battle was heard ahead instincts came and the warden rushed forward to help only to be delayed by a large number of undead. By the time the warden dispatched the undead and caught up to the group again. One of the mages was dead and the others had started moving saying that the one soul wouldn't have died in vain if the journal was right.

The warden kneeled over the fallen warden praying to whoever their god might be. After the prayer, the warden caught up significantly closer to the group to keep them from being out flanked. This just proved more to the warden that fighting was normal to this body.

The conversation happening ahead was strangely heard before. Maybe the warden had a prophetic dream about something like this, either way ears focused on the noise ahead. "Holy shit! You weren't lying when you said that there were griffon eggs here," an elven mage said, "This changes everything! We can bring back the glory days of the Grey Wardens!"

"Your right Caronel, but there is still one real problem we face. The First Warden is just going to use this to his own advantage. We need to make sure this is done right. I don't think it'd be possible to do that here in Weisshaupt," the sober voice of the warrior cutting through the excitement.

"There might be a solution to that," the voice of the last living member of the party cuts in with nervous twinge in her voice, "You see Caronel, Reimas and I came to the same conclusion and have been trying to find a way to make sure this opportunity isn't ruined by the greed of someone who really doesn't live as a warden. We think we should smuggle the eggs out of Anderfels and into a more helpful place. I might have also come to a possible solution to it as well. I think we should go to Ferelden."

The conversation was what triggered another headache for the warden. Memories of being in Ferelden, living there, fighting there, being a warden in the country and doing what wardens do best. The warden knew that what she said was true Fereleden would be the perfect place for griffons to be raised but couldn't remember why that was true. The headache was so massive and disorienting that the warden missed part of the conversation and had to focus to continue to listen in. "…not like he's still around and Orlais has the only other warden that's lived through a fight with an archdemon. We should go there instead," the elven man was arguing back at the other two.

"We can't because we have to worry about The Game and all the politics surrounding Val Royeaux we can't even be sure he hasn't been sucked into it all," came the argument of the warrior Reimas.

"But he has experience and the knowledge to make these eggs worth something, and if you want to get away from the First Warden Orlieasn wardens have strained relations with Weisshaupt right now."

"So do the Ferelden wardens."

Valya, the other elven mage, sighed, "Its also slightly personal, Caronel. I'm from Ferelden as you know and you've heard the story about how the people who worked the Hero of Ferelden. Most of them are still there even if he isn't. They would no doubt be as honorable as he is because they want to honor his memory."

The warden decided to through in a copper or two of their thoughts, "If you're worried about politics the Commander of Ferelden is still technically an Arl if I remember correctly," the new voice brought the other 3 to battle stances weapons pointed to the new voice.

"Who are you? How did you find us? Who sent you?" Valya had gone from nervous argumentative voice to full on authoritative as the warden walked out of the shadows hands raised in surrender.

"I found you by overhearing your conversations in the library and decided to follow you. I apologize I couldn't save your friend I was held up by my own batch of monsters. No one sent me, I think," the last sentence gave the mages more reason to charge deadly spells. "There is a reason I say that though! I don't know who I am!" This brought pause to the group, "I have amnesia I think, according to the research I've done. I've been living in Weisshaupt for a few months now practically absorbing all the knowledge the library has to offer. I saw you two," the warden indicated Reimas and Valya, "go into the restricted section about a month or so ago. I've been absorbing all that information too. So to sum it up in a slightly more succinct way: I don't know who I am and no one sent me, but I know that you're right about Ferelden."

Valya was barely buying it, "How do you know Ferelden is the best place to go? And if you're so sure why start with something that is an argument against it?"

"I started with that cause it needs to change and I feel like you going there and arguing for the Commander to step down would be a good way to convince the Ferelden wardens of your intentions. As for why I know it's the best, It's a gut feeling. I've gotten those a lot since I showed up here and it hasn't failed me yet seeing as how I'm now standing here with you."

"I hate to say it but he's got a point," came the measured tone from Caronel.

"Take off your helmet let's see your face," Reimas demanded.

"I can't for some reason," the warden admitted, "Let me show you what I mean," the warden proceeded to show them how no matter how it was held the mouth guard wouldn't leave the armor, "I think it has something to do with my amnesia, but I have no proof. All I know is I landed face first in the desert under a closing fade rift. I didn't know anything really, so I just walked unknowingly towards Weisshaupt. Seeing what I'm seeing now and having read all I've read, I want to help. Please let me. I don't trust most wardens in the fort on an instinctual level but I don't have that same problem with the 3 of you."

"Why should we trust you?"

"I have an itch in my head everytime I read something about griffons or flying. Its like I've done it before but I don't fully understand. All I know is I want to help. If you want to get out of Anderfels with these eggs I want to help. I think I'm from Ferelden too cause I remember flashes of things that I know are Ferelden I remember fighting darkspawn there. I want to remember who I am and helping you will help me get there faster too."

Valya sighed and finally lowered her staff looking at the others, "Lets trust him. We could use some extra help."

"Valya! We can't just trust random wardens who walk up and say they want to help!" Reimas argued.

"I know, but we took a chance with Caronel-"

"Hey."

"-might as well take a chance with an amnesiac that can fight his way through to use alone."

"Fine but I don't like it."

"Noted. Well we need to give you some kind of name cause 'Hey you' isn't going to work."

The warden finally lowered their hands and thought for a moment, "How about just Warden? Simple, easy to remember, and it seems familiar too."

"Alright Warden any bright ideas on how to move eggs safely?"

"Well we are near the capitol. So what if we hire some kind of ship to smuggle us and the eggs out? I could hit up the seedier parts of the capital get us some transportation to get us to Ferelden."

"You want to sail to Ferelden?" Caronel was stunned with the idea.

"Well its better than going over land avoiding whoever we can and having to answer 'What do you lot have in the cart there?' over and over," Warden shot back in a semi-mocking manner.

"Fine but I'm coming with you. We'll have to hide the fact we are wardens though," Valya seemed to like that she was able to take command of the situation again.

"That'll be easy enough I think," Warden gave a grateful smile.


End file.
